


Want You to Remind Me

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Male Solo, Other, Read the Authors Note for more, Shiro doesn't remember so he can't be sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9557207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: Something reminds Shiro of another place and time.It isn't until later he can deal with it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Important Note** :
> 
> Due to the nature of Shiro's imprisonment and his amnesia, this story contains dubious sexual consent. Not only is Shiro unsure himself, but since he was a prisoner, his ability to consent was limited.
> 
> For the curious, the partner he's remembering is Lotor from [Niffty24's](https://niffty24.tumblr.com/) most recent story. In it, Shiro is willing, but there are definitely skewed power dynamics. If that or the questioning bothers you, give this one a pass.
> 
> This is also extremely unbeta read. I finished it like two minutes ago. Wheeee.

Holding the strange device in his hands, Shiro fought off a vague sense of guilt.  

He wasn’t doing anything wrong.  And not in a denial kind of way - he honestly wasn’t.  No one needed this whatever-it-was right now.  Hell, when the others had dug it up, they’d thought it was old junk and set it aside.  Lance had suggested that once upon a time, Alteans had normal shower heads, and that had launched the group into a debate about the likelihood of convergent development of shower technology.

Except for Shiro.  Because when he’d first seen it, he’d been hit by a wave of arousal so strong it had felt like a punch in the gut.  It had only lasted a moment, but and after his stomach had felt like someone hand reached it and twisted it out, and somehow left him panting for more.

During the chaos of the argument, Shiro had nabbed the device and stuffed it in his back, determined to figure it out in private.  He hadn’t dared pull it out until he was in his room with the lights off, and the relative quiet of the castle meant that most inhabitants were asleep.

Including the mice.  He really, really hoped.

Because even just holding the little item was making Shiro’s pants too tight.  Impatient, he put it aside and undid his pants, sighing in relief as the pressure released on his cock.  

There, maybe now he could actually look at this thing and think for a minute.

Lance was right that it looked like a shower head, if a wide one.  Where it would have fit to a tap was different though, with buttons and tabs that felt familiar when Shiro ran his fingers over it.

He knew this thing.  Or, he knew one like it.

How?   _ Why? _  The only way Shiro would know something but not remember it was if he’d used it over his year of captivity, and that didn’t explain the reaction.

Or, maybe it did.  

Despite the icy feeling in his stomach, Shiro didn’t drop the Whatever.  Normally, when a memory came, it was blood-stained and painful.  This was...

This was different.

Maybe.

Shiro didn’t want to know, but he needed to. 

And, even if that wasn’t the case, the anticipation and heat was leaking out of his chest and into the rest of his body, and Shiro wasn’t sure he could have brought himself to step away if he’d wanted to.

So instead he closed his eyes and worked on muscle memory, doing his best to keep his brain from interfering.  His thumb caught on a button that he pressed, and then he lifted his arm and placed the item over his head.

It floated there, calm and passive and not touching him at all.  If Shiro’s hands still hadn’t been brushing it, he wouldn’t have been able to tell it was there at all.

But the fact that it was there and on and  _ about to start _ made his cock twitch, pressing against his boxers.

Shiro wasn’t quite ready to take that step yet.  Not until he knew what this thing did.

This was stupid.  It was all incredibly stupid, from stealing it to waiting till he was alone to turning it on and letting it hover over his head.  For giving into the press of arousal like this.

Except,  _ god, _ it had been so long.  Years in the plural, as far as he knew.  This was the first sign otherwise, but it wasn’t pain and humiliation.  It was pleasure, toe-curling just from the shadow of a memory.

Shiro was weak.  

So he turned on the device.  In the dark of his room, he could see the faint glow of golden light as it activated.  Then it heated, and there was another, brighter, near blinding flash.

Pleasure hit Shiro like lightning.  It started from his head, making his thoughts melt away in an instant, and crackling down his spine like a live wire.  Shiro arched his back, breath catching in his throat and making him from letting out more than a low, guttural noise.  Bucking his hips, Shiro’s eyes rolled back as something in him  _ shifted _ , barely counting as physical.  It was deeper than that, more complete, more overwhelming.

Eyes rolling back, Shiro went limp and his vision spotted out.

 

When Shiro opened his eyes, he was sprawled out his bed in a sticky, sweaty heap, and the little massager was-

Massager?

...No, nothing else.  Damn.

The massager was laying next to him, innocent as if it was the cleaning tool the other paladins had thought.  It was in direct contrast to Shiro, who still felt flushed and uncomfortable.  And when he sat up, his boxers were-

Eugh.

Wincing, Shiro wished once again that there was an en suite bathroom to the paladin quarters.  But since there wasn’t, he spat into his hand to help loosen anything sticking too badly, then kicked off his pants and boxers, leaving him bare from the waist down.

His legs were still shaking, and his breath was still coming too quickly.  He couldn’t have been out for more than a minute or two. But god-

If Shiro had felt anything better than that, he didn’t remember it.  He wasn’t sure it was possible for something to feel better without doing physical damage.

Flipping onto his stomach, Shiro stretched out, working out the slight discomfort from passing out in the position he had.  Then he picked up the massager again, running his fingers along the edges.

It didn’t feel complete.  Mind, it felt  _ amazing, _ but there was a flavor to it that Shiro was missing.  A sensation that he hadn’t managed on his own.  A puzzle with a missing piece.  He could see the picture it made, but he knew something was wrong.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Shiro closed his eyes again, trying the same trick that had made the massager work.  He wanted...

His thighs clenched together in remembered anticipation, and Shiro’s hips gave a lazy roll against the covers.

Shiro’s eyes snapped open, and he stared unseeing at the wall.

What he was missing was the sex.  Being fucked.  He associated this particular feeling with being stretched open and fucked after.

No.  It didn’t feel like that.  It didn’t.  Shiro wouldn’t crave it like he did now, would he?  He wouldn’t want to rut against the bed, wouldn’t have the urge to dig out the lotions that he prefered for, ahem, stress relief.  He wouldn’t crave to supply the sensation himself, wouldn’t feel his stomach twisting with that same, hopelessly powerful craving.

Unless they used that device to make him pliant...?

But no, Shiro didn’t feel out of his head.  If he really wanted to, Shiro could throw the device across the room and go to sleep right now.  There was a physical urge, yes, and god was it powerful for being surrounded on all sides by pain and cold and distance.  But it didn’t destroy him.  It didn’t turn him inside out and make him want that kind of violation.

Shiro had to believe that.  If he started jumping at those kinds of shadows too then he’d never sleep again.

Closing his eyes, Shiro concentrated one more time, on the sensations of the vague memory he’d been riding on.

Riding on-

_ Riding.  Someone large, their chest smooth and warm under his hands, a chuckle in their voice.  And large below the belt too, spread Shiro wide, the kind of stretch he craved and rarely got on Earth.  The kind he thought he hadn’t had at all in space, except in his imagination. _

_ One dark hand held the massager, the other was settled gently on his hip.  And Shiro was completely in control, in this moment, riding at his own pace, taking for his own pleasure.  He ground down, giving tiny, urgent bucks, head thrown back in pleasure. _

_ And right before he came, the hand holding the massager came up and there was gold. _

That was-

What  _ was _ that?

Not every violation was viciously violent.  Not every kind of assault left blood and pain in it’s wake.  Shiro knew that.  The fact that he hadn’t been beaten and tied down didn’t mean it couldn’t be the worst case scenario.

But Shiro hadn’t felt that way, at the time.  He knew that.  He’d been enjoying himself, nearly laughing with it.  It was a half-mad feeling, delirious, wild, needy.

Whining, Shiro nearly ripped open the storage of his bed and pulled out the lotion, pouring it onto his hand.  Then he reached back, knees coming up under himself to present his ass to the empty room.  One finger slipped in easily.  Shiro was relaxed, practically gagging for it after the use of the massager.  The second one went in too, and this time he could actually feel the stretch.

God, he’d missed this.  His self care sessions had been short, usually just his hand on his cock, occasionally daring to use the showers when he was alone.  Nothing drawn out, nothing requiring real effort.  Nothing like this.

Shiro’s eyes rolled back as he slipped in a third.

It didn’t match that thick cock from the memory.  He wished it did, but that hadn’t been something Shiro could match, and he’d been hardpressed to find a human that could.  Proportional to a species not found on Earth, but it worked so very well for Shiro.  Even their fingers had been bigger than this, Shiro knew, and he teased a pinky against his hole in frustrated need.

Eyes snapping open, suddenly lit by a nearly vicious desire, Shiro snapped up the massager.  He used his metal hand to set it up, and then turned it on.

This time he was moaning before it even started.

It wasn’t as intense the second time.  Whatever this thing massaged, apparently it did some of the job the first time.  But it still felt amazing, like a rub down by hot water jets.

Curling his fingers, Shiro pressed his face into the pillow, muffling the desperate noises he was making.  He bucked down hard on his fingers, aching for the stretch he wanted.  For the cock he wanted.

Shiro clenched around the fingers, then reached down to wrap a hand around his own cock, tugging and twisting.  At the same time, he shifted, arching so that his hand shifted, brushing keep inside.

Finally, Shiro pressed against his prostate properly, and his vision spotted out again.

This time, he stayed aware enough that he saw the massager fall down onto the bed, quiet as if it had never been used.

Collapsing onto the bed, Shiro slid his fingers out and sprawled onto the bed.  

Shiro curled in on himself eyes closed.  He came back to himself slowly, body still twitching from pleasure but head clear.

What memory had he just gotten off to?

And now, after, there was no memory of lying with them.  Nothing of spending the night.

Figured.

God, he really was weak.


End file.
